(Not Quite) Rocking the Kasbah

I’ve wanted to go to Morocco for years, but always hesitated booking until last Christmas, however luck it seems was not on my side as I was snowed in.

I think perhaps it was meant to be as I got to go this October with the boy – a good thing as I really don’t think I would have coped on me own. My vision of Marrakech was that it was a laid back, relaxed hippy destination. What a shock to my system it was!

I was not expecting a city bursting at the seams, the streets overflowing with traffic – both donkey and cart, buses, Mercedes taxis and scooters. Surprised by how third world the city seemed, I was a little bit on the edge.

The boy however dutifully helped me cross the street, and protected when the persistent sellers in the Souk became too much for me.

The cities of Morocco definitely opened my eyes to how lucky we are in “Westernised” society. Yes there was McDonalds, KFC and Pizza Hut, but they were in the minority. Cafe’s that were little more than a shed with a fireplace at the front populated the busy streets.

No supermarkets, just small shops selling essentials. No department stores, just businessmen hustle in the tourist trade with promises of cheap, quality goods and mint tea. Snake charmers earn pennies by luring in tourists to watch their shows.

I loved Morocco, but if you’re after a calm, relaxing holiday then I’d avoid the Medina of Marrakech in favour of somewhere a little less busy, smelly and somewhere with a few less cats.